


Time On Our Hands

by SpangleBangle



Series: Thominho Week 2015 [1]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Day 1 - School/University, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Short & Sweet, Thominho Week, Thominho Week 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:52:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5030866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpangleBangle/pseuds/SpangleBangle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My fill for Day 1 (School/University) for Thominho week! So have some fluffy teachers relaxing after a long day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time On Our Hands

Minho downed his second coffee of the hour with a grimace and blinked blearily down at the stack of essays on the table before him. He really wanted to give this girl a B, she’d worked so hard, improved so much. And he could see the amount of effort she’d put into it as well, her bibliography was at least fifteen sources more than he’d expected. But she still hadn’t hit all the assessment points, getting distracted and going off on a tangent instead of following the brief. He scowled at the mark scheme and regretfully gave her a D. He wanted to reward her hard work and obvious interest, but the policy was to follow the mark scheme like gospel, and screw any original thought that went into the essay. He scribbled down some feedback, more than he probably should have done, professionally speaking, and made sure to write down the assessment objectives for her to use next time. Poor girl. He just _knew_ this would cause her so much stress, and he knew her other subjects were a similar story. She was incredibly smart, and had such a passion for little subjects within each subject, but it never came through in her grades and her GPA was suffering.

He turned the unfortunate essay over and put it on his ‘completed’ pile, not wanting to think about it anymore.

An hour or so later he was startled from his marking-trance by the sound of the key in the door turning. “Hey,” Thomas called, sounding just as tired as he did. “You in?”

“Yeah, kitchen,” Minho called back.

“And what did I tell you about working in the dark?” Thomas called, and abruptly the hall and kitchen lights came on, stabbing at his eyes and making him wince.

“I had a light on,” Minho grumbled, rubbing under his reading glasses.

“Well you were basically sitting in the dark apart from that desk lamp,” Thomas replied as he dumped his bags on the floor next to Minho.

Minho looked up at him and smiled, his face sore from the tense frown he’d been holding all evening. “How was the parent-teacher conference?”

Thomas smiled back and leaned down to lay a light kiss on Minho’s lips, hand squeezing his shoulder. “Not bad. Exhausting as usual, but I only got yelled at twice, and only had three no-shows. So not too bad, considering.”

“Who yelled at you?” Minho frowned, catching his hand as Thomas pulled back.

“It wasn’t anything personal, don’t worry about it. You know what some parents are like – their precious child could never bully anyone, not their darling angel who’s about to get suspended for beating up the others. And the other one was sure I was marking their kid down out of a personal vendetta. And I felt kinda bad, because their kid is just… not bookish. He’s a beautiful artist, he’s always sketching and showing me his drawings and he has so much talent. But science just isn’t his thing, of course his marks aren’t as good. It’s not the kid’s fault his dad wants him to be a doctor or whatever.” Thomas sighed and Minho rubbed his thumb gently over Thomas’ knuckles. “Anyway. Went pretty well otherwise. What’re you up to?”

“Essay grading,” Minho replied with a grimace. “I’m about three quarters done. There’s a plate for you in the oven, by the way.”

“Thanks, I only had a sandwich once the conference got going. Have you eaten?”

“Yeah, a while ago,” Minho said with a smile as he watched Thomas settle himself in for dinner. Thomas wolfed it down unselfconsciously, gulping about a pint of water with it. When he was done he looked about eighty percent more alive. “Good?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Thomas smiled. “What d’you wanna do tonight?”

Minho squinted at the clock, then down at his pile of unmarked essays. Thomas sighed.

“I’ll come join you when I’m done,” Minho promised. “You get settled, I won’t be long.”

Thomas ran a hand along his shoulders as he passed. “Sure thing.”

Minho sighed quietly as he heard Thomas turn on the TV in the next room. He would love to go curl up on the couch with him and mindlessly watch a film, but these essays had to be handed back tomorrow…

Hours passed as the piles in front of him slowly lessened and grew respectively, each paper full of scribbles in his tired, loopy handwriting. It had just gone midnight when he finished the last one and leaned back in his chair with a groan. His whole back felt like one giant bruise, and his fingers were tingly and cramped. He looked down at the pile of papers and folded up his glasses when he realised that even wearing them, all the words looked like blurry smears.

He jumped a little as he heard Thomas move up behind him and laid his arms around Minho’s shoulders. “I didn’t realise you were still up,” Minho said croakily. He reached up to stroke over Thomas’ hands and leaned back into him.

“I was kind of dozing,” Thomas admitted. “I’m seriously considering suing your school for taking up so much of your time.”

Minho smiled, raised one of Thomas’ hands to his lips and kissed over his fingers.

“Those kids are lucky to have you, you know,” Thomas said, nodding towards the papers. “Most of the teachers at my school would just whack a grade on the top and nothing else.”

“I want them to do well,” Minho mumbled wearily. “They all have so much potential, and most of them really apply themselves. They put the time into these essays, I should put time into their feedback.”

Thomas leaned down and kissed his cheek. “You’re a good teacher, Minho. And you know I love how committed you are.”

“I just don’t want the system to fail them. They deserve so much more.”

“I know, Minho.”

Minho closed his eyes as Thomas kissed down over his neck. “You’re not a sloppy teacher either, you know.”

“I know. But your school definitely does not appreciate you, so I guess it’s up to me.” Minho felt the smile pressed against his neck and reached up to run a hand through Thomas’ hair.

“You do that very well.”

“I try my best.” Thomas kissed gently up his neck again, then around to his ear. He planted a tiny, soft kiss just behind it, giving Minho goosebumps. “Come to bed.”

“Thomas, I’m really tired tonight…”

“I know. Just trust me, okay?”

“Always.” Minho followed him through to the bedroom, very happy to leave work outside the bedroom door.

Thomas looked at him seriously for a moment, then started stripping him down. Minho was about to say something when Thomas caught his eye meaningfully. So Minho smiled and let him do what he wanted, kind of enjoying being undressed like this. When he was just in his underwear, Thomas leaned up to kiss him with a gentle passion.

“Sit on the bed,” He smiled, and Minho obeyed. Thomas knelt behind him and got something from the bedside table. Minho jumped as Thomas began spreading oil over his shoulders in smooth, circular motions.

“I could get used to this,” Minho smiled.

“Shut up for once,” Thomas replied, half exasperated and half fond.

Minho happily shut his mouth and closed his eyes as Thomas’ hands rubbed slow and warm over his shoulders and back, smoothing the oil into his back that set his skin tingling pleasantly. The oil gave a vague sense of heat, and smelled like lavender and coconut. With each pass of Thomas’ hands, the knots and soreness in his back eased and the headache threatening faded away. His fingers rubbed firmly and confidently into Minho’s knotted muscles, then stayed to touch and press once the soreness was gone.

The worries of the day faded away and Minho’s thoughts drifted blankly, letting himself space out and simply enjoy the love in each sweep of Thomas’ fingers and the quietness of the room, a balm to his usual swirling thoughts and headaches from the classroom. He felt a yawn bubbling up from his stomach and sighed it out. Thomas rested his hands briefly over Minho’s ribs, feeling them expand and contract with the yawn. Then his arms gently wrapped around Minho’s waist, oily hands smoothing over his stomach and chest, his own chest pressing against Minho’s back.

Minho tilted his head back to rest on Thomas’ shoulder and smiled. He could feel Thomas’ heartbeat in his own ribs and spine – steady and strong. They breathed together as Thomas pressed his hands over the smooth curves of Minho’s chest and stomach, then up again to his shoulders and over his biceps. There was nothing sexual in it, only a quietly profound affection and appreciation that filled them both like a slowly expanding balloon, lightening their hearts and minds and filling the air around them with love. Minho let his head loll tiredly and pressed a small kiss to Thomas’ neck. Thomas’ hands came to rest, one over Minho’s heart, the other just under his diaphragm to feel his breaths.

“Thank you,” Minho whispered into Thomas’ neck, eyes heavy as sleep beckoned. “I’ll have to do that for you as well, soon.”

“I look forward to it,” Thomas murmured back, squeezing his arms tighter. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Thomas.” Minho kissed his neck again drowsily.

Thomas stroked his thumb over Minho’s heart for a moment, then gently unwrapped his arms. Minho felt him gently patting a towel over the excess oil on him, then he was being so carefully pulled down onto the bed. His senses were dull and muted in contented exhaustion, and he wrapped his arms around Thomas’ curled up form with the automatic motion of long habit, pulling Thomas back into his chest and resting his forehead against Thomas’ neck. School would be tiring the next day, but for now he was perfectly content to drift into a deep, dreamless sleep, his lover secure in his arms.


End file.
